


still i can't get enough

by 煦榆 (xuyue)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Crushes, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Lust, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:27:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22458733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xuyue/pseuds/%E7%85%A6%E6%A6%86
Summary: On a hot summer day, Kuroo's feelings for Kenma come to a head.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 10
Kudos: 190





	still i can't get enough

**Author's Note:**

> just something short and sweet as my first contribution to the fandom and my first fic on ao3!

It’s hot. 

It’s hot and humid and Kuroo has to shift in his position on Kenma’s comforter every few minutes to unstick the thin cotton of his t-shirt from his back. 

He grimaces, running a hand through the large, damp heat trap he calls his hair. The heat wave had come all of a sudden, sweeping through Tokyo and bringing the prefecture to its sweaty, unprepared knees. 

From the open window beside him, the only sounds of activity are a chorus of cicada calls and the rustling of leaves in a much-too warm breeze. Everyone with sense was staying indoors and enjoying functional air conditioning; a luxury Kuroo was currently being robbed of as the Kozume household’s air conditioning system had spluttered and died a day before the heat wave. Nonetheless, he had agreed to come over, as he did almost every weekend to watch Kenma tackle a 100% completion run of a new RPG he’d bought just that Tuesday. 

The younger boy seems almost unaware of the oppressive heat, his concentration entirely on the television screen in front of him. The only evidence that he was even affected were the small beads of sweat trailing their way from the dark roots near his temple to the soft line of his jaw. Kuroo’s eyes involuntarily draw away from the screen to watch a droplet roll down the pale, exposed skin of his best friend’s neck. 

He has the overwhelming urge to lick it up. 

Groaning internally, he squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head to rattle away the thought. Not unlike the heat wave, the realization of his feelings for his best friend had hit him all at once, nearly crippling him. 

\---

It had been at the crest of springtime, during an early evening after practice. He had been working out the finalized list of their first year recruits with Naoi and Nekomata after cleanup. By the time he was done, the sun was beginning to dip below the cloudless horizon, washing the sky in brilliant shades of reds and yellows. Unsurprisingly, Kenma had been waiting for him outside of the gym, gaming console in hand. 

Slinging his worn gym bag over his shoulder, he had made his way over to the younger boy. A small poke at the crown of his bleached head signalled Kenma of his arrival and he had wordlessly gotten up and followed Kuroo as they made the familiar walk home. 

At this time of year, the sidewalks and streets were littered with fallen petals; remnants of the earlier spring bloom. Kuroo had been mindlessly commenting on his impression of their new roster, with slight hums of acknowledgment from Kenma every couple of sentences. 

“They’re all so  _ shy _ ,” Kuroo had groaned, lofting his arms above his head in a stretch. “I keep trying to get them to talk to me but they  _ won’t _ .” he had pouted slightly, his eyes caught on the reflection of the darkening sky on a glass-windowed building in front of them.

“You scare them,” Kenma had offered, plainly, as they turned the corner onto a long set of concrete steps.

Kuroo had considered this. “Maybe,” he muses, rubbing the back of his neck. “Good thing next year’s captain won’t be so intimidating,” he teased, nudging the shorter boy’s shoulder.

Kenma looked up from his game, his golden eyes relaying disinterest. “Pass,” he muttered, before beginning to descend the steps in front of them. 

“ _ Ah _ ,” Kuroo wagged a finger as he fell behind him, “you say that now but a year can change a lot of things.”

The blond crinkled his nose. “Just give it to Tora,” he mumbled as they began their descent on the second flight of steps. 

Before Kuroo could respond, a glint of green glass on the step in front of Kenma caught his eye. 

Without time to warn him, he had reached out and grabbed a handful of the other boy’s sports jacket, yanking him back reflexively. With a small yelp of surprise, Kenma stumbled backwards, his ankle hitting the rise of the landing behind them. In an attempt to prevent his best friend’s head from cracking on the pavement, Kuroo held out his arms to catch him but had misjudged the weight of the impact.

This action had sent them both falling down, with Kuroo’s torso being painfully sandwiched between the concrete of the steps and Kenma’s back. Instead of immediately pushing off of him, Kenma had turned slowly from his position to face the boy he was currently lying on. 

In the light of the dying sunset, Kenma’s irises were a blazing gold. Kuroo swallowed hard, taking in the sight of the younger boy lying on his chest, a mix of shock and awe on his delicate features. 

The expression was gone in a second, but Kenma didn’t move to sit up for another beat. 

“Kuro,” he’d said quietly.

Kuroo instinctively reached out to cup the soft skin of the younger boy’s cheek with both hands. His right thumb had grazed over the soft curve of Kenma’s cheekbone, the skin smooth and unblemished under Kuroo’s calloused digits. 

Had his best friend always been so  _ pretty _ ?

“Are you alright?” he breathed, his heart hammering in his ribcage. He attempted to convince himself it was from the adrenaline, but really, Kuroo wasn’t  _ that _ stupid. 

When Kenma didn’t immediately answer, he tried at a laugh. “That was quite a fall,” he mumbled, dropping his hands to his sides. “You might want to get up soon, though. Your elbow was about a few centimeters off from wrecking the family jewels.”

This statement caused Kenma to give a little snort and just like that, they were pulled out of the tear in the universe that had been created in that moment. 

They got up with a few groans and complaints from Kuroo, who rubbed his back like a wizened old man. The culprit of Kenma’s would-be fall turned out to be an errantly placed glass bottle; an odd sight, as litter was few and far between, even in Tokyo. But like the responsible citizen he was, Kuroo picked it up and disposed of it on their way home.

The sky was a dusty indigo by the time they had turned onto their street and the chill of night had begun to prickle at their skin. 

Their parting was uneventful, but Kuroo had spent way too long pretending to dig in his bag for the keys to his front door, just so he could watch his best friend’s retreating figure for a second more. 

\---

From that incident, something had ignited in Kuroo. 

It had begun as something manageable; a small flame that licked uncomfortably at the inside of his chest. Sure, he had caught himself staring at his setter for seconds too long at times. And  _ sure _ , Yaku had remarked that he looked even more stupid than usual after flubbing a set of blocking drills, but like any small flame, Kuroo was certain it could be snuffed out. If it was entirely necessary, of course. 

What was a little one-sided homosexual attraction between best friends, anyway? 

\---

Kuroo has never been good with fire. 

Not literal fire, as evidenced by a third-degree burn scar from a firecracker when he was seven. And certainly not the figurative fire that he’d ignorantly let catch inside of him. 

It had grown to a robust flame, residing in his torso and singing the sinews of his ribs every time Kenma so much as looked at him. He’d had to play it cool of course; he’d still smile when appropriate, make the same jokes, and occasionally allow himself the small touches that had been habit to them before. 

But the smoke was too thick and heavy, spilling out of him and signalling to anyone and everyone around him that Yes _!_ _He did_ indeed _have a dumpster fire of a crush on his best friend!_

He’d expected it to be a shock to their team members; their shining captain  _ infatuated _ with their dear setter? It was the exact embodiment of the juicy high school drama they all pretended to not care about. But when he blurts it out to Yaku after a particularly harrowing experience involving Kenma accidentally wearing Kuroo’s track jacket ( _ it was  _ so  _ big on him, so  _ unfairly  _ cute _ ), the libero just rolls his eyes.

“Duh,” he’d said, as if Kuroo had just told him they were living in Japan. 

He was left dumbfounded by his teammate’s indifference to the news that had shattered his world a mere month ago. That events of that afternoon had been a watershed moment for Kuroo; a  _ revelation _ , an  _ epiphany _ ! He’d never imagined he could feel this way about anyone, much less his childhood best friend. 

Kenma, small sweet Kenma, who had silently watched him grow out of his awkward years, was the one who was now stoking the flame in his heart. It was almost unthinkable, yet Kuroo was the only one who seemed to realize the gravity of the situation. Even the object of his affections seemed to not feel the earth-shattering shift in their dynamic. Granted, Kenma wasn’t telepathic, but with how close they were, he very well  _ could _ have been. 

The apathy of his peers and Kenma’s ignorance had gotten the gears turning in Kuroo’s head; there was no good reason to ruin the dynamic they’d had now. There was no external pressure to confess and logically, the risk was greater than the reward. Kuroo couldn’t afford to lose Kenma. He couldn’t afford to have his best friend shut him out because of fear, or even worse,  _ disgust _ . 

No, he had to keep the status quo. Even if the inferno in him burned hot enough to blacken him from the inside. 

\---

In the blazing heat of summer, Kuroo is starting to slip. 

When he’d walked in earlier that afternoon, Kenma was already seated at the foot of his bed. He had tied up his bleached locks in a makeshift ponytail at the nape of his neck, leaving the fringes loose to frame his face. A maroon tank top was hanging loosely off of his frame, showing off the pale rise of his collarbones in a way that Kuroo thought was downright  _ sinful _ . 

Up until that point, stifling his feelings had been working out for him. He’d almost made it to the beginning of summer break, when he’d planned to distance himself a bit more to prepare for the upcoming university entrance exams. 

But now, in this moment, his resolve is beginning to crumble under the weight of tank tops and sweat-slicked skin.

He really needs to cool off. 

“I’m gonna go stick my head in the freezer,” is what Kuroo groans as he gets up from his position on the bed. 

A few bars of victory music play as Kenma clears another dungeon. 

“Bring back popsicles,” is all he says as the taller boy moves sluggishly to the door. 

“Mhm.”

Kuroo makes the familiar walk down to Kenma’s kitchen, his bare feet sticking uncomfortably on the polished wood floor as he does. His hands can’t grip the handle of the freezer fast enough, pulling the door open to allow a blast of cold air to hit him right in his stupid, horny face. 

He leans his head against the interior, allowing the frost to melt on his scalp and quell the heat. He’s half-tempted to stick his head into the bag of frozen taiyaki in front of him. Maybe scream into the packaging for a few seconds, too. 

Kuroo was, in simple terms, a shithead. He was a shithead and a terrible person who couldn’t even go an afternoon without having unchaste thoughts about his best friend. He was, without a doubt, the  _ worst _ . 

He spends a full two minutes in there, counting down from one hundred and twenty seconds. 

He sighs.

While he values it deeply, the miracle of modern refrigeration wouldn’t be able to touch the aching burn in his chest. Reaching into a lower shelf, he pulls out a couple of plastic wrapped popsicles, and pushes himself back up. 

He shakes the remaining flecks of ice from his hair and tries to compose himself, before heading back up to Kenma’s room. 

When he re-enters, he notices the console is on the ground and the game is paused. Kenma himself is leaning against the foot of his bed, eyes closed and body relaxed. 

Smirking, Kuroo pokes the frozen popsicle packaging against his forehead to startle him. He doesn’t jump, but his eyelids fly open upon the cold contact and he instinctively swats at the taller boy’s arm. 

He grins as Kenma rolls his eyes. At least some things don’t change.

They open their respective popsicle wrappers and Kuroo gets orange while Kenma gets cherry. In the intense heat, their colourful desserts are already beginning to melt so they take it upon themselves to devour them quickly. 

Kuroo finishes first by a small margin, crushing the last bit of citrus-flavoured ice between his teeth but makes the mistake of looking over to Kenma. Gobsmacked by the image of his best friend licking the remnants of his melted popsicle off of the stick, Kuroo groans internally. 

His lips were now stained a bright red, accentuating his soft Cupid’s bow. His tongue was also stained the same brilliant shade but he immediately forces his thoughts away from that particular corner. 

Kenma’s eyes flicker to his best friend. 

“You’re looking at me weird,” he says, matter-of-factly, and Kuroo’s stomach turns. 

“You just have, um,” he motions to a non-existent drop of cherry liquid at the corner of Kenma’s mouth. He’s not the best liar but Kenma buys it, dabbing at the area with a finger. 

They toss their wrappers and sticks in the waste bin under the desk and Kuroo expects the younger boy to go back to his game, but instead, he flops down on the bed. 

“Feeling okay?” Kuroo inquires, sitting at the edge. 

“Mmm,” he turns to the taller boy. “Lie down.” 

Kuroo’s mouth goes dry but he complies, positioning himself on his back as to not look at Kenma directly. He tries to count the stars on a poster above the two screens of a computer setup, anything to stop the heat bubbling inside of him. 

“Kuro,” 

He gnaws at the inside of his bottom lip but turns to face him. He watches as Kenma winds a stray thread from the comforter around his fingers. The cotton is a deep blue; an endless ocean between them. 

He watches as a furrow appears between Kenma’s brows, “You’re…you’re  _ not you _ .”

Kuroo swallows, “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” hesitation evident in his voice, “You’ve been kind of distant. And I think I know why.” 

“Oh?” he tries to respond, but even the one syllable comes out garbled and shaky.

“I think,” the blond sighs, “I think you know how I feel about you.” 

All sensation leaves his limbs. 

“ _ H-huh _ ?” he chokes out and suddenly, the only noise in the world is the pulse pounding in his ears. “And, um, how do you...how do you feel about me?”

Kenma huffs. “You know that I like you. Don’t mock me, Kuro.”

Kuroo’s eyes widen, “I  _ wouldn’t _ -”

“Then why-?”

“I thought you knew that I liked  _ you _ !” 

Kenma makes a small noise of surprise. Kuroo squeezes his eyes shut, it’s downright adorable. 

When he opens them again, he’s faced with a set of golden eyes. The intensity behind them is the exact spark that had ignited the blaze back on that cool spring evening. 

“We’re idiots, huh?” he offers, softly, reaching out to push a golden strand of hair from Kenma’s cheek. A hand comes up to clasp his as he does.

“I’m not an idiot,” Kenma mutters, but he shifts his body to be closer to Kuroo. The heat of their bodies together is almost unbearable, but it’s the closest to euphoria he’s ever felt. 

Leaning in, he touches his forehead to Kenma’s. They’re close enough that Kuroo can feel the soft flutter of his eyelashes against his cheekbone.

“Can I ki-?”

Lips press to the corner of his mouth mid-sentence, halting all higher cognitive function in his brain. 

“ _ Kenma _ ,” he breathes in delight, before kissing his best friend back. It’s sloppy and uncomfortable, with the warm cotton of the comforter pressing against his face. He pushes himself upright, slinging a leg over the small blond’s torso. 

Beneath him, Kenma is wide-eyed and flushed. It’s almost maddening.

He leans down, closing the distance between them again. The kisses are chaste and careful as they navigate each other’s touch. Kuroo intertwines his fingers with Kenma’s as he deepens the kiss. His tongue traces the edge of Kenma’s lip and all he can taste is the sticky sweetness of artificial cherry. 

“ _ Wait _ ,” is a mumble against his mouth. 

He pulls back, slightly concerned. 

“It’s too  _ hot _ ,” Kenma complains.

“Ah,” Kuroo says. He’s not wrong; they’re both disgustingly slick with sweat. The cicadas outside start up again and reality centers itself in his mind. 

Here he was, in Kenma’s room, on Kenma’s  _ bed _ , kissing  _ Kenma _ . And somehow being massively cockblocked by the weather. 

He pushes himself off to sit next to the younger boy. 

“It’s okay we can just…” 

“Wait until nighttime?” 

He lets out a laugh in disbelief. Beside him, Kenma’s cheeks are a dusty pink. 

“Yeah, we can wait until nighttime.” he smiles, lying back down onto the bed.

Closing his eyes, he feels a high akin to winning every game in a single tournament. He reaches down, his hand making contact with Kenma’s. Carefully, he laces their pinkies together. The fire inside his chest burns contently, its heat warm and comforting. 

“Hey, Kuro.”

“Mhm?”

“We should go get cold soba tonight.”

“Are you asking me on a date?” he teases.

Kenma lets out a short snort.

“Yeah, let’s go on a date.”

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading! ^^
> 
> twt: @iunaryear


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